his mouth under mine is a carnation - his flesh the flower bed, anointing my body at each sear of his skin against mine - and god, good god; if this is sin, let heaven know i sold my soul for something sweeter - something soft i can tuck under the tongue, something that bears a crest of love - and i know, oh i know; that the priests would call this lust, call it an empty carnal desire; yet my heart beats for him, a bee abuzz with all the heavy fragrance of lilac left to wilt in autumn sunrise - of daylight rotting with a tremble into wine, chalices full of bleeding cherry plum - oh, how wildly it moves to the song of his name, leaving my ribs dispossessed of soul - until all i know are his hands at my back, until all that remains is our joined fire.
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limerence.
Truyện NgắnI was everything you ever wanted until I wasn't. Accomplishments ; #5 in Writings #19 in Excerpts #6 in Spilledink
